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[Dec. 7th, 2009|11:21 pm] |
(Maybe it's my period, maybe it's Denise and Hao Guang's being away in Malacca, maybe it's the ton of school work that I have to do and have not done, maybe it's because I wasted the day today and I feel really bad about it, maybe it's my menstrual cramps, maybe it's estrogen, maybe it's my unpredictable emotions, maybe it's my female heart, maybe it's because I am human, maybe the peach jelly I ate was spoilt, maybe... Maybe we don't always need to know why.)
Under The Table
1602 hours - 1855 hours
As I lay there on my mother’s side of my the queen-sized bed
I could vaguely make out
five black — things — could I call them feet? of the
swivel chair. I set my alarm for 6 ‘o clock. I decided I would
wake up and do my work there, lest the T.V. distract me if
I worked outside.
I fell asleep.
2036 hours - 2117 hours
Overslept. And actively decided to be distracted by
the television programmes. Finally decided to start on my work, trying
to summon some urgency. My two feet
joined the feet of the chair, mine with chipped red polish,
it’s with charcoal black wheels.
These feet they stood together in silence, under the table.
I tried to do my work.
2118 hours - 2138 hours
Turned off the music (Hillsongs) — I could not focus. Not
on God, not
on my work. I opened my moleskine, got as far as six lines, the last line read,
“Why am I crying, God?”
My knees joined the company of feet both the chair’s and my own.
It’s the first time I ever
knelt on this part of my home. This part, under this table.
I started to pray.
2139 hours - 2201 hours
I turned on iTunes, the lyrics sung: So we cry out Your name.
And so I did, I cried out His name as my body
it joined my feet and my knees. I lay prostrate underneath
the taupe table. A couple of prepositions were going on — On
my knees, the floor below me and tears on my face, prayer from
my heart and a table over me. And
then I knew all that I needed to know... That God
From that first hour to the very last
He loves me.
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